July 26, 2008

A few days ago I picked up a copy of William Gurstelle’sThe Art of the Catapult. I sat down a bit before dinner tonight just intending to read a few pages but ended up plowing through the entire book. It’s a fascinating and accessible short book (168 pages) written for a slightly younger market, but it still has a lot to inform an adult. Gurstelle’s nine chapters are each divided into two sections. The first part of each chapter has a historical overview of the time period of a specific type of catpult. He describes the development and use of basic catapults, ballistae, trebuchets, onagers, and other types of missile-tossers, complete with some rather harrowing descriptions of actual battles. One of the few books I’ve read that have made me want to learn more about history.

The second part of each chapter has a section that describes how to build a tabletop version of that specific catapult. Excellent! His instructions won’t really let you build anything of massive destructive power, but they will give you the basics (and a *cough* skilled woodworker might consider it childs-play to scale some of the designs up to a “lethal” size).

Reading this book has made me think about using the Hirst blocks to construct a medieval diorama of a castle siege complete with little catapults. Heh.

All in all, a great little book, especially since Half-Price Books is currently featuring it for around five bucks.

July 24, 2008

A couple things I noticed, though: Geddy Lee is trained. I could tell by the way he supported some of the higher notes. He sang some of the really high stuff down an octave though. It’s not fair to have him sing the highest stuff full- voice without a warmup! I also noticed that Neil Peart and Alex Lifeson didn’t do so well on their respective instruments, even on expert, because the game had dumbed it down too much. They probably made most of their mistakes because they were playing the real thing, not the simplified (even on expert!) stuff that Rock Band makes you play.

July 18, 2008

As many of you know, Erin and I got to spend last week up in Colorado. I had been hired to go shoot another video by a camp that hosts military soldiers and their families. Three years ago we went up to the very same camp and made the first video. They were so appreciative of the first vid that they wanted me to go and update it, so off we went again. For a whole week I shot footage around the camp (6 hours), conducted lots of interviews (8 hours), ate great food, and got to know the “other 1%”: the soldiers who make up our military (Army, in this case). They told some incredible stories. I had my perspective rocked quite a bit three years ago and worked really hard to make sure that their stories and their appreciation for the donors got through in the video. Through the whole process I have felt like all of my skills have been engaged. Technical: filmmaking, audio, lighting, framing, etc, and interpersonal: interviewing, getting to know people, keeping the “customer” happy, trust on camera, etc. I’ve felt completely “used up” and stretched to my limits while I strove very hard to put out something that would be high quality and hopefully have an impact.

Mission accomplished. I just found out that the people responsible for getting funding for the camp were able to use my video to raise half a million dollars for subsequent camps. This money has been used so that hundreds of families could come to camp together and reconnect after their soldier-parents had been overseas serving for one, two, or even four different deployments (up to 15 months per deployment). Seeing the appreciation on the families faces and knowing that I had a small part in that has probably been one of the most satisfying things I have ever done.

I’m definitely not taking credit for it, though. There were a few other key people who spent those three intervening years traveling around, talking to donors, interfacing with the military machine, and generally making it work, and they’re the real reason that the camp continues to this day. But I’m proud of the small part I was able to play and happy that I got to go back. It’s not often that we get to see the fruits of our labor used in such an obvious and meaningful way and I’m grateful to have seen first-hand the effect that my work had on these wonderful families.

Because we don’t hear about it in the mainstream media, I wanted to point to an article that shows the progress we’ve had in Iraq in just the last two years. And since it’s been written by a person who is there and has been there in the past when things weren’t so good, I submit that it’s a better representation of the truth than what we’re being force fed through normal media channels.

Then there are times when the change hits you across the forehead like a 2×4. Yesterday I found inspiration in the tears of joy on hundreds of faces at the graduation for the Iraqi Military Academy at Rustimiyah as 252 young men graduated from the one year course of instruction and were commissioned as 2nd Lieutenants in the Iraqi Army and Air Force…

We all just sort of stood there and soaked up the energy and passion. This is where Iraq is today. These families, rich and poor, Sunni and Shia, young and old were overcome with pride for their sons becoming officers of the new Iraq.

It wasn’t because they would be getting a regular pay check. Not because there is nothing else to do. These men have committed themselves to building a new democratic Iraq and the sheer joy and pride of their families tells even the most jaded observer, including a couple of veteran western journalists in my group, that something has shifted here that can’t be ignored.